Hands
by Wolfhound159
Summary: It's a slightly AU piece. Inspired by Hoyt's question in the first episode, "Hands are so useful. Dexterous. And yours played the piano. Do they still work?" This fic revolves on how Jane deals with her inability to play the piano once more. Vaguely Rizzles.


**Author's Note:**

 **This is my first fanfic on this couple and story line. I apologize for any mistakes or character inaccuracies. It came out differently than what I had envisioned, but at least it's out.**

 **Thank you for taking the time to read and review this. You're a fabulous person.**

* * *

Flashes. Flashes of his face inches from hers. An overwhelming feeling of fear. That's all that Jane can see when she closes her eyes. Hoyt stole everything from her. Her piece of mind. Her sanity. Her safety. Her ability to think clearly.

She just prayed he didn't steal the last shred of herself she had left. Her ability to soothe her quelling thoughts by playing the piano.

She thumbed the fresh marks still red and healing on the palms of her hands. The small sharp stinging pain being ignored as yet, another night passed by and she couldn't sleep.

She stood, watching the piano, as if waiting for it move, for half an hour, before she rounded up enough courage to lift its heavy wooden lid and sit on the bench. Her eyes traced its matté finish, its ivory shining keys, before she stretched her nimble fingers hesitantly over the waiting pieces.

At another time, at another place, she would've been eager to start, sporting an enchanting dress to match her dazzling smile as she played for a small intimate audience. But not now. Not tonight. Tonight, she was in her worn nightshirt, a couple of holes from overuse scattered around. Tonight, she was using every strength she had in her, not to cry her heart out and let the tears warp the wood and dull and distort the tones. Tonight, she was fearful of being left with nothing of her once brilliantly exuberant personality.

She tapped out a couple of keys, the beginning of a once well practiced piece of hers. The music filling the room as the gentle notes were called out by the dance her fingers were doing. As the tempo started to rise, the music escalating with it's own excitement for the climax, pain shot out of her palm, racing through her bloodstream. Her fingers cramped, twisting and curling as the pain continued to throb, the music distorting and coming to an abrupt stop.

Her tears were choked out of her, as her sobs rose instead. When the tempest fell and the pain diminished, she grabbed the fire ax she kept with her. Fueled by rage against Hoyt and blinded by her tears, she dismantled the piano, pieces jagged and splintering every which way. She picked up the pieces and threw them out into the driveway, stacking them until there was a looming pile of polished wood, the pieces of what used to be her piano. She doused it with gasoline, before lighting a match and setting fire to the wood. She watched the fire consume the last piece of her stolen personality, the last piece of her sanity, as her tears once again started to fall. When the fire died out, and her tears had disappeared for the time being, she vowed to herself that with her hands, she will never again let herself believe she was whole again. She vowed to never play a piano again.

XXXXXX

Jane and Maura were making preparations. It was 2 months into their engagement and they had procrastinated from any actual planning because they were too busy enjoying their blissful relationship. If course, they had their fights and arguments, but now they knew that whatever was said or done could always be resolved between them.

"I'm not going to play for our wedding, Maura." She whispered to her. "I can't."

Maura looked at her confused, "play? What are you talking about Jane?"

Jane made a small helpless shrug, her eyes revealing her vulnerability as she looked at Maura.

Maura searched through her memories, to try to figure out what her fiance was talking about. "are you referring to the piano?"

Jane looked down, nodding softly.

"Jane, I wasn't going to ask you to play it. It's our day, and the last thing I want is for either of us enjoying every last second of it."

Jane smiled, her thumbs tracing the scars on her hands. She looked at her, her tears softly falling.

However, with the small promise of being happy, Frankie had decided that the best wedding present for them would be a piano. Since they both had experience in the instrument, they would both benefit from it.

So when he pulled the covers, and revealed the grand piano standing there, the last reaction he expected from his sister was her tearful eyes and shocked expression. Before he could say anything further, Jane excused herself and raced away before anyone noticed the small whimper escaped from her as her tears fell.

She hid in one of the rooms, and was crying in a corner when Maura found her. Maura kneeled in front of her, a concerned look in her eyes, as she gently took Jane hands in hers.

"Jane?" she murmured softly, "Frankie was just being stupid, dear."

Jane nodded, lifting her head from her knees to look at Maura.

"We don't have to keep the piano." She continued, "We can return it or se-"

"No," Jane interrupted softly, "No, we don't have to get rid of it. It was a gift. A horrible gift, but a gift just the same. No, besides, you've been wanting to buy one for years, I'm not going to let you give it up."

"Are you sure? You know I don't mind."

"I'm sure." She sniffled, standing up and wiping away her tears, before kissing Maura, wrapping an arm around her waist and walking out of the room. "But if they ask me to play the gift, I'm slapping their stupid faces."

Maura chuckled softly, Jane laughing with her.

"Deal."

XXXXXX

Flashes. Flashes of his face inches from hers. An overwhelming feeling of fear. Jane's nightmares came back. HE came back. She jumped out of bed as if it had burnt her. Her tears were falling silently as she ran her hands through her hair. She looked at Maura sleeping silently on the bed, and sent a small prayer of thanks that she didn't wake her up.

With a shaky breath, she stood and walked out of the room, silently. Her thumbs running over the healed scars on her hands in the nervous tendency they have. She walked to the kitchen, getting a glass of water to refresh her burning throat.

Her eyes caught the piano, and her heart thundered in her chest. Her mind flashed back to the time before Hoyt. To the moments when her fingers dancing on the keys were enchanting. To the moments where she was proud of her skills, and relaxed with its tones and memories.

CRASH. The glass that was in her hands slipped down into the floor. She jumped from her thoughts, panicking slightly as she feared she woke up Maura. She quickly picked up the pieces, disposing of them, before sweeping away the smaller pieces. She checked in on Maura, sighing softly in relief that the noise didn't disturb her. She walked back to the living room, where the piano stood, looking at her. She was tempted, dating to prove her wrong. Wanting to prove that Hoyt doesn't have control over her.

 _Good as new,_ her words echoed in her mind. She lied. Of course she did. She wasn't about to give him the satisfaction that he ruined everything for her. She wasn't going to let him believe he had any power or affect to her life.

She sat on the bench, lifting the lid, before staring down the keys.

"What am I doing?" she whispered to herself, running her hands through her hair before they worried the scars. She didn't want to try again, and then be proved that she was never going to be complete like how she used to be. She didn't want to face the facts that Hoyt made her useless. _No._ She thought, _I am NOT useless. I've saved countless lives, put away thousands of criminals. I killed Hoyt. He can't rule my life. He WON'T rule my life. Dead or alive._

She steeled herself, her fingers reaching out to the keys determinedly, though they trembled slightly. She tapped out an old piece she never forgot. Playing it's melancholy tunes, as it's unspoken pains and desires were emphasized by the bittersweet notes floated through the air, wrapping up Jane in a long forgotten music started to rise, the tempo speeding up to match it's musical desires. Pain shot out from her palms, from the forgotten muscles, and raced through her bloodstream. She pulled away her hands, her scars burning as her tears escalated instead.

She faintly noticed Maura sitting down beside her, wrapping her up in an embrace, as Jane clung to her, her tears falling onto the space between them. Maura just held her, letting her cry her anguish away. After a while, Maura took Jane's hands in hers, her thumbs tracing each contour and each scar. She planted a soft kiss to the palms of her hands before wrapping her up in another hug.

When they parted, Maura started to play the base of the song Jane was playing before. Jane looked into her eyes, gaining the courage to start the piece over, playing the song while in between them, their hands lay intertwined.

The music filled the room, wrapping them both in a warmth as they continued to play. As it started to swell and rise, Jane's scars burned once more, dragging out her part as Maura's hand in Jane's rubbed gently on the scar.

She nodded softly, and pushed through the pain. Her tears fell as the music continued its climb within the tempo. It rose and rise until it reached it's peak. Jane's hand slowly started to tighten Maura's, but Maura didn't seem to mind, continuing her small soft circles on Jane's skin.

When the final notes were played out, Jane hugged her wife at her side, resting her head gently on her shoulder. They sat there for a while before Maura shut the lid, and led Jane back to bed.


End file.
